


In a sense we're all winning

by keysmash



Series: Supernatural s5 Codas [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coffee, Community: spn_30snapshots, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysmash/pseuds/keysmash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>O' God it's wonderful<br/>to get out of bed<br/>and drink too much coffee<br/>and smoke too many cigarettes<br/>and love you so much</p><p>from Frank O'Hara's "<a href="https://people.creighton.edu/~mlm22940/writings/ohara/steps.html">Steps</a>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a sense we're all winning

**Author's Note:**

> Follows [Who understands me when I say this is beautiful](http://latentfunction.livejournal.com/368469.html) and [What beatings we have taken](http://latentfunction.livejournal.com/370531.html), which deal with 510 spoilers, although this does not directly. Written for prompt 12 of my [](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_30snapshots/profile)[**spn_30snapshots**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_30snapshots/) [table](http://latentfunction.livejournal.com/349450.html). Title from Frank O'Hara.

Dean brought what was left of last night's whiskey with him when he went downstairs. Bobby was still snoring on one of the couches when Dean padded past the living room. He had a blanket piled over his chest and his legs stretched out too straight, and Dean stepped around the creakiest places on the floor as he made his way into the kitchen.

Bobby's coffee pot was the newest, shiniest appliance in the house, and Dean put the whiskey away, hiding it, as he waited for the pot to fill. Sunlight edged its way between the slats in the shutters and fell in tiny strips around the room, and Dean watched dust floating through the air. Between the pills Sam had forced him to take and the murmur of brewing coffee, Dean was still drowsy, and he didn't move around as he waited.

Sam was still upstairs in bed. It was much later than they should have slept, but he'd burrowed unhappily towards the warm spot Dean left behind when he climbed out of bed, on his way to the john, and Dean let him sleep instead of shaking him awake. He'd gathered Sam's clothes off the floor and left them on the empty pillow, after discovering just how much warmer he felt when he put his own pants back on, and closed the door behind him to shut Sam up in the warmth they'd created.

He poured himself a mug as soon as the coffee stopped dripping and drank half of it down right away, black and too hot. The ceiling started creaking above him as Dean finished the cup, going slower this time, and when Dean heard the bathroom pipes groan as well, he scrounged up another clean cup for Sam.

Sure enough, Sam came downstairs a little later, wrinkled but dressed. The hair at his temples was damp and Dean could see his stubble from across the room. He scooped up the mug Dean offered and held it between his palms for a moment without sipping it. He closed his eyes and let the steam work its way up to his face, and Dean turned around to refill his own cup instead of having to keep watching his brother.

Sam slurped his first sip from behind Dean and then stepped closer to him, to wrap one arm slowly around his waist and kiss the side of his neck with lips that were still warm. Dean put his own mug down on the counter and turned in Sam's arm, then looked up at him. Sam wasn't smiling, but he grabbed a handful of shirt in the small of Dean's back and kept them close together.

Dean glanced over his shoulder. "Bobby still out?"

"Cold," Sam said. He leaned down and kissed Dean like this was something they did, like they were allowed to pour each other's coffee and make out in the kitchen. Dean kept his mouth closed -- keeping everyone's skunky coffee breath to themselves and making sure they weren't sharing the wet, smacking sort of kisses that would wake people up a room over -- but he didn't move away either. He let Sam kiss him, let Sam grab onto the back of his waistband with his free hand, and by the time Sam backed them into the counter, which pressed a hard line against the top of Dean's thighs, he was kissing back.

Dean ran his hands up Sam's chest and thumbed at his nipples, which were easy to find in the cold even under Sam's two or three shirts. Sam hissed into his mouth and Dean laughed a little, then stilled. He looked over Sam's shoulder, and even though the doorway to the kitchen was empty, he pulled slightly away from Sam's mouth. His lips felt swollen, somehow both oversensitive and growing numb, and he sucked the bottom one into his mouth for a moment. Sam tracked the movement and stepped closer, all the way back into Dean's space.

"This is stupid," Dean said, "doing this here."

"So let's go back upstairs." Sam nudged their hips closer together, poking Dean with his dick.

"We've got shit to do," Dean said.

"We have no leads at all." He leaned in and kissed him again. "And you know we need Bobby to make any sense of those stacks." He nodded backwards over his shoulder, towards Bobby's piles of books that Dean didn't know his way around at all.

Dean fought a smile as he sighed, giving in, and when Sam turned to head back upstairs, Dean just picked up their cups of coffee and followed.

He wasn't used to this yet, to closing a door that they didn't need to lock behind them, and to pulling Sam out of clothes that had barely warmed to his body, and to tumbling them both back into bed. The sheets were cool against Dean's skin. He yanked the covers high over both of them again, tugging them up to their shoulders, and settled in on his side, facing Sam.

Sam folded one arm under his own head and slid the other over Dean, brushing from his shoulder to his ribs to his hip and then down over his cock. Dean hissed a little and arched into Sam's grip. He almost expected Sam to lean and kiss him but Sam stayed where he was, keeping enough space between them that Dean could focus easily on his face.

Sam's eyes moved back and forth across Dean's face as he stroked hard and easy over his dick. He closed his eyes for a moment when Dean reached over to take a hold of him, to wrap his fingers around Sam's cock as it leaked and twitched, but he opened them again when Dean started moving his hand as well. They lay there and just watched each other, holding each other's gaze, and Dean couldn't look away from Sam's face as it slowly crumpled, as they came apart one after the other.


End file.
